RainMaker
by RuelessEntity
Summary: A childhood tragedy destroys the bond of brotherhood between Thor and Loki for good. Odin knows that if he does nothing, both boys are lost to him. He does the only thing he can think of, but a few years down the line he sees something dark in his youngest son...Something he is responsible for... Young Thor, Loki, Sif and The Warriors Three.
1. Sanctuary

_**I**** do not own Loki or any of the other Thor characters I may use or mention herein. I am merely borrowing them for my own amusement. **_

_A childhood tragedy destroys the bond of brotherhood between Thor and Loki for good. Odin can see that if he does not intervene, the boys will both be lost to him so, he does the only thing he can thing of. He is aware of the risks, but knows this is the only option. For years the boys seem fine, then Odin notices something dark in his youngest son. Something he knows he is responsible for. _

_Movieverse, set before the film. Features young Loki, Thor, Lady Sif and The Warriors Three. _

**Rain Maker. **

**Chapter One: Sanctuary**.

Dusk threw honey coloured light into the library and softened the harsh corners of the bookcases a little. The colours of the bindings - most of which were blood red or the colour of wet mud - were largely unaffected by the sunset's intrusion. They remained the same hue no matter what the time of day.

The same could be said of the smell; dusty, sweet, a little damp, old, timeless and unchanging.

Occasionally, other scents found their way into the reading room. In winter, the clean, clear, fresh scent of snow would squeeze itself through the gaps in the windows and under the door, seeking sanctuary from the biting cold that chased it.

In the spring, the servants would open the windows in an attempt to air the room out, and the aroma of tree blossoms would float in and nestle amongst the leather bound tomes.

But no scent was more powerful than that of the books themselves. It was always there, omnipresent and unwavering. The forever musk; the scent of knowledge itself.

Loki stepped into the chamber with a deep breath and a smile. He stood for a moment in the doorway, as was his custom, surveying the books with pride. They were his. They were all his. Or they might as well have been. Thor didn't much care for parchment and ink and, as a result, seldom visited the library.

_I wonder if he even knows it exists. _Loki had thought on more than one occasion, shaking his head at his brother's disregard for all things intellectual.

In fact, nobody visited the place, save for the servants of course, and theirs were the short, tentative visits of those who felt they were trespassing. They dusted and prodded, tidied and left.

Loki had watched them once before, out of curiosity. It had been more of a test really, an experiment to ascertain if they could see him.

Hiding in the shadows afforded by the deep bookcases, Loki had watched them as they gingerly neatened up stacks of books, pushed back the ones that were out of line amongst their brethren on the shelves and wiped delicately, with small squares of cloth, at the edges of the shelves left bare, prone to collecting dust.

When they had gone, Loki had stepped from the shadows, plucked a book from the sill closest to him and had sat for hours, leaning against the centre-most window in the room's only wall not obstructed by the shelving units, just reading. This was his sanctuary, sacred only to him, the one thing of his Thor would never claim as his own.

Loki stepped dutifully across to the wall of windows and stared downwards to the city below. The buildings seemed to cascade down the small mount on which the palace had been built. They meandered, in small groups, downwards until they became smaller and were engulfed by the less sparsely positioned abodes of the city's centre.

If he inclined his head to the left and leaned forward against the pane, Loki could just about make out a thin, grey outcrop, flecked with spots of green. This was all he could fathom from this angle, but he knew what would be revealed if he could see further. He knew he would see the ocean. The ocean that held no clear colour. It wasn't blue, wasn't black, wasn't green. Instead it was a combination of these and more.

On many an occasion, Loki had likened the colour to that of the Bifrost's bridge, but he had kept this observation to himself. It was secret only he knew, An insight only he was allowed to know.

Loki pushed himself away from the cold glass, silently stepping round the goldenstone bureau littered with stacks of books and pieces of parchment pushed into neat piles. He reached the opposite side of the desk and leant against it, pulling a book from one of the piles on it's surface and thumbing it open. He turned a few pages before he found one worth his attention and granted it his focus.

Loki remained like this for a little while, turning pages at almost the same speed as the sun was setting in the sky.

Then, a noise broke his concentration. It had been quiet, a little louder than a breath and lasting only a second. A gasp perhaps? He closed the book and placed it aside him, leaving a flattened palm atop the cover. His focus was on the door, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"Hello?" Loki ventured, in a tone confident and indifferent at the same time. When no reply came, he turned his attention back to the book. He lifted it gently from the desk top and was about to find the page he had been reading when another small noise came from the direction of the doorway. This one sounded more like someone clearing their throat and this time, when he looked up, the origin made itself known to him.

It was a girl.

She looked about his age, her face still slightly rounded by infancy. Two large eyes of ambiguous colour stared innocently ahead. Her brunette hair, easily reaching to her waist was secured in plaits, one either side of her head. Loki couldn't tell what the girl wore; she had yet to step into the room.

"Sorry…I was…er…lost." The girl offered, an awkward smile on her lips. She rounded the door fully and stepped into the amber aura of the archive. Loki noted a flaxen tunic tied in at the waist with a piece of gold cord. The girl's shoes were worn, but not likely due to lack of affluence. They looked as if they were a favourite pair that she wore often.

"What were you looking for?" Loki asked, kindly, responding to the girl's uneasy smile with a friendly one of his own.

The girl took a step closer and shifted awkwardly, "Not what, _whom_."

She corrected. Loki raised an eyebrow, "Alright then; For _whom_ are you looking?"

"I was looking for the Allfather." She replied. Loki registered a slight flash of fear in her eyes at the mention of his name.

"Odin?"

" Yes." The girl nodded, "I'm supposed to give him a message."

"What message?" Loki's eyes narrowed and his face fell a little in concern. There was a note of panic in his voice.

The girl turned away slightly, "Couldn't you just tell me where I can find him? Please? I need to be getting home."

Loki stood and moved towards the girl slowly, "Is it something bad?" He queried.

The girl gave a shrug of her shoulders and shifted her gaze to something hanging on the cord at her waist. Loki wondered how he hadn't noticed it before.

"I was just told to give him this." She lifted the something, unfastening it from the rope and as she did so, Loki studied it. It was a scroll wound around a coarse wooden spindle. On the seam was an insignia, scrawled in black ink. Loki swallowed involuntarily, recognising it immediately.

"Is your father alright?" He asked.

The girl looked startled for a second, her eyes met his for the first time. Loki noticed they were ice blue.

"How did you-?"

"Is anything the matter?" He pressed, concern weaving itself around the words.

"He's fine." The girl assured him, "He tried something reckless and got himself hurt." There was ridicule in her tone and guilt as well. Loki wondered why.

"Badly?"

"Badly enough to be bedridden for a few days." The girl answered solemnly.

Loki gave a nod in understanding, "So I'm guessing he sent you along with an explanation as to why he's going to miss his lessons?"

She nodded. Loki held out a hand for the scroll as if he had decided he laid some sort of claim to the document.

"I had wondered at his lateness." He stated matter-of-factly, "Ymir's not one for missing them."

The girl's hand tightened around the scroll and her brow furrowed in confusion.

"You're Loki?" She asked.

Loki blinked slowly, unaware of how exactly to respond to her tone of disbelief.

"Yes." He stated dubiously, "Am I not permitted to be?"

The girl's eyes widened a little and she turned to the boy before her with arms raised slightly in surrender, "Sorry! Of course you are. Of course you are. I'm sorry. It's just…" She seemed to stop herself, as if she had suddenly realised that what she was about to say could get her into trouble.

Loki waited patiently, his arms folding across his chest. He smirked a little and raised an eyebrow, "It's just _what_?"

"Nothing." She replied too quickly.

"What?" Loki coaxed, a smile twitching at his lips. "Tell me."

The girl shook her head and took a demure step backwards.

"Tell me and I'll explain to Odin about Ymir." Loki offered.

The girl looked up, "Really?"

He gave a nod, "You won't even have to meet him."

He outstretched a hand and watched as she thought for a moment, mulling the consequences over in her mind. In the end, she surrendered the scroll, dropping it gently into his palm.

Then she turned to leave.

"Where are you going? We had a deal!" He called after her as she made for the door.

"We do." She called over her shoulder, "I just want to be far enough away when I tell you."

Loki scoffed and gave a single, permitting nod. When she reached the door, the girl turned back. She took a breath and steadied herself.

"Are you going to tell me now?" Loki pressed.

"Alright…" The girl began, "It's just that…I imagined you'd be taller."

The words were barely out of her mouth before she swung herself around the edge of the door and ran down the corridor. Loki shook his head and listened to the footsteps disappearing down the hallway. They stopped suddenly and too soon. Loki's brow furrowed and he crossed the room, peering around the portal. He looked both ways, but could find no trace of the girl.

_Of course... _He concluded to himself, sliding a finger under the seal on the scroll and unravelling the parchment to read what was written there, _She's the daughter of a sorcerer._


	2. Cumulus

**Chapter Two: Cumulus.**

"Hurry!"

Loki awoke with a start at the din. He pushed himself into a seated position and surveyed the room around him hurriedly, panic quickening his heartbeat. There was no one there but himself. He relaxed a little, feeling a bemused frown crease his features.

"Get him inside. Quickly!"

The second frantic instruction was louder and Loki found it's vicinity subconsciously. His attention inclined to his left, towards the outermost wall of his chamber.

Loki stood and approached the wall, trepidation slowing his pace, but curiosity coaxing him forth. He swept aside the thick emerald coloured drapes that hung there, removing them from his path. A domed archway revealed itself at their absence and Loki stepped through it and onto the balcony beyond. He walked a few paces to his right and approached the balustrade, hooking his fingers over the closest edge, placing his weight on his palms and leaning forward to obtain a better view.

The gallery overlooked one of the lesser used entrances to the palace grounds and afforded a good view of a substantial portion of the gardens and the pathway to the bastion itself. It was to this path that Loki turned his attention.

Two black horses emerged through the gate at the end of the trail, their riders bidding them slow their pace. Even from this distance, Loki could make out that each horse carried two people. The rider of the foremost horse dismounted delicately, stepping to his left and supporting his passenger, waiting for the other rider to dismount and assist him. The passenger swayed in his seat and looked as if he would topple and fall at the slightest breeze.

The second horse halted a little further down the pathway with a slight whinny. Loki would have smirked if he hadn't have been so intrigued by the scene; the second rider was obviously not accustomed to horses. The rider dismounted clumsily and, once both his feet were firmly on the ground, he reached up towards his own travelling companion.

Loki's eyes widened and he, all at once, understood the magnitude of the situation.

The rider reached up and helped a girl to the ground. A girl wearing a flaxen tunic beneath a dirt brown blanket. A girl whose dark hair was secured in plaits at either side of her head. A girl who was sent to the palace a few days previous with a message for the Allfather. A girl who spoke with Loki and called him short. A girl who was the daughter of Ymir, the sorcerer.

Loki felt his heart sink and a lump rise in his throat. Within a second he was in his chamber again. He changed out of his bedclothes, donning black trousers and a black shirt. He headed for the chamber door, pausing a moment and turning back to pull on his boots. Then, he swung the portal open and ran from the room.

Loki traverse the maze of hallways and corridors with a frantic ease until he finally came to the entrance he had sought. He all but leapt over the threshold and skidded abruptly to a halt. The doorway had been obstructed by two men - he assumed they were the riders from before - carrying an unconscious form between them. He stood to the side and let them pass, but couldn't help but steal a glimpse at their charge as they did so.

It was as he had feared…It was Ymir. He looked too thin, too pale. Weak and silent and unmoving. Devoid of the laughter the pair had shared in their last lesson together.

In fact, Loki realised, as the lump in his throat swelled, he looked as if he would never laugh again. A tear rolled down Loki's right cheek as his gaze followed the fallen sorcerer, but he brushed it away discreetly with the back of his hand.

"Loki?"

He turned towards his mother's voice and found her to be standing near the centre of the huge, high-ceilinged hall. The girl was at her side, eyes on the ground, head bowed. Loki shot her an inquisitive glance and wondered whether she was avoiding his gaze because she felt she was trespassing or whether she had been crying and didn't want anyone to see.

Loki approached Frigga obediently.

"Mother." There was a slight tremor in his voice. He did his best to ignore it and hoped his mother and the girl would too.

He looked up to Frigga and received a warm smile. She turned her attention to the girl at her side, placing a gentle hand on her head.

Subconsciously, Loki's gaze found the girl as well.

"Loki, could you look after Eira for me? I must tend her father in the healing room."

Loki gave a nod and smiled in comfort to the girl before him. She looked up and gave a small grateful nod. Her blue eyes were bloodshot and the skin around them was red where she had been rubbing at them. Loki didn't blame her for crying. He could only imagine what he would do if his father was in Ymir's position.

Frigga bent at the waist and placed a soft hand on Loki's right cheek. Her thumb brushed against a thin vein of moisture there. She kissed him lightly on the forehead and their eyes met for a moment.

"Thank you." She mouthed, before standing and pivoting slowly. She glanced over her shoulder at the children, pride and pity filling her eyes in equal measure.

"You're both being so brave." Frigga smiled, "But don't worry; Ymir's going to be just fine, you wait and see."

With this, she dutifully turned from them and strode through the doorway to the right, following Ymir's path.

Loki took a breath and turned to the girl with a grin. He understood what his mother had meant by the words 'look after'. She had entrusted him with the task of keeping the girl's mind off the situation at hand. He would try, but not for Frigga's sake; For Eira's.

"Eira." He breathed.

The girl turned to him, her head cocked to the side a little. "Yes?"

"That's your name." He mused, his grin widening a little.

Eira's eyes narrowed in confusion. "You're point being?" She replied, a hint annoyance behind the words.

Loki raised his eyebrows. "You didn't tell me before." He stated matter-of-factly, pivoting swiftly and walking away from the girl.

Eira's brow furrowed. Hesitance froze her to the spot.

"Come with me." Loki called back over his shoulder.

Eira took a few steps towards the prince. He continued in his stride and reached the end of a corridor leading from the hall, seemingly indifferent as to whether she followed or not.

"Why?" Eira asked, trotting to catch up with him. She finally came alongside the boy and frowned at him, thinking him rude when he did not turn to her.

"Where are we going?" She ventured.

Loki afforded Eira a knowing, sideways smile.

"We're going to get something for your headache." He gave a nod and savoured the delicious bewilderment monopolising her facial features.

Loki rolled his eyes playfully and reached for Eira's hand. He took it, the skin like ice from the early morning air, and she did not resist.

"Come on." Loki spurred, breaking into a run.


	3. Elixir

**Chapter Three: Elixir.**

The room was long and thin, but despite the narrow space left between the walls, Eira was sure she could have fitted her own home within it at least twice over.

Eira stifled a gasp as Loki led her over the threshold and came to a stop just in front of a lengthy table. The table ran the length of the chamber, parallel to the walls. It was seemingly hewn from the same stone as the walls, ceiling and floor since it possessed an identical sun-kissed hue. At intervals along the table's surface were positioned several ornate candelabras and alongside the table, one at each side, ran cushioned benches.

At the far end of the hall, steps led upwards to an awning, beyond which Eira could see the railings for a balcony or walkway, though she couldn't be sure which from this angle. A slight breeze blew through the opening, but the air outside was warmer now and this reflected on the zephyrs.

Eira edged into the room, reached the table and ran an appreciative hand along the smooth golden surface. Loki watched her in silence, a smirk playing at his lips, his hands clasped patiently behind his back. Eira side-stepped a little and perched herself on the end of one of the benches. She looked to Loki and gave an awkward smile.

The prince's brow furrowed, "What's the matter?"

Eira scoffed and looked down in embarrassment, "Nothing." She answered quietly.

Loki rolled his eyes and shook his head, "That again?"

"Yes, that again." Eira responded, with a teasing smile somewhat lacking in conviction. She drew the blanket tighter around her form, subconsciously.

"I could always guess." Loki stated with a shrug of his shoulders. "In fact, that is what I shall start doing every time you utter the word '_nothing_'."

Eira raised an eyebrow at him.

"And you'll have to admit, you do that a lot."

"Not a lot!" Eira protested.

"Perhaps…" Thought Loki, unclasping his hands and folding them across his chest instead. "…but, in my experience you do. You've uttered the word '_nothing_' one time for each I've met you. So, from that, I was merely making the assumption that you do it often." He finished with a knowing smile.

The girl shook her head, "Maybe that is the case...but you shouldn't pry if I decide not to tell you something."

"I was not prying. I was going to guess."

Loki remained calm. Eira felt her cheeks warm in annoyance and embarrassment. She made a point to avoid his gaze, not wanting to know whether he had noticed this or not. She heard Loki sigh in either disappointment or defeat and listened as he took a few steps away from her. Eira looked up involuntarily and saw that the prince had already reached the entrance to the hall.

"Wait." She called relieved when he turned back to her, eyebrows raised inquisitively. "Where are you going?"

One side of Loki's mouth twitched, as if it wanted to mould itself into a smile, but the young prince forbade it.

"I already told you." He stated, bluntly, striding from the chamber.

Eira stared after him as he made his way down the corridor they had traversed just a little while ago. However, after a second or two, there was nothing left to watch. Loki had vanished.

Eira's gaze found the table top again, this time in sadness. Loki had learned that trick from her father, just as she had. A lump formed in her throat as she realised that she might learn nothing more from him. She tried to swallow the lump away but found she could not. It was aggressive and unmoving. It made her eyes water.

Eira took a deep, cleansing breath, absent-mindedly wiping at the tears in her eyes. Her father was going to be fine. The palace healers were the best. They would make him better again. Wouldn't they?

The doubt in her mind was clear to Eira and nothing she did could dispel it.

Her eyes found the ceiling and she sniffed; it was a quiet sound but to the girl, it echoed around her. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she slid the blanket from her shoulders and lay it haphazardly beside her on the bench. A feeling of shame and guilt overcame her as she surveyed the decadence of the room and she hurriedly reached for the blanket again, folding it neatly and then replacing it on the bench.

The short laugh that followed startled her.

Eira twisted to find Loki standing at the hall's entrance, a gilt beaker in each hand. He smiled teasingly and approached the table, taking a seat opposite the girl. Eira pretended she didn't see the prince's smile and instead focused on the vessels he held.

Loki place both cups on the surface and then slid one across to Eira. He watched her for a moment, before taking a sip from the one closest to him.

Eira closed a hand around the cup, registering an unexpected temperature beneath her palm. It was warm. She had expected a metallic chill. A smile tugged at one side of her lips and she wrapped both hands around the cup. The warmth welcome to her icy palms. Tentatively, she brought the beaker upwards and inhaled the thin vapour of steam rising from the liquid contained within. She noted the scent of honey and rosemary, but there was something else too that she couldn't quite place, a sharp tang, an unexplained bitterness.

Eira took a sip, careful not to allow her eyes to flicker upwards beyond the brim of the cup. She knew Loki would be studying her attentively and this made her uncomfortable. She could ignore him, she decided, and she would. She focused on tasting the beverage instead.

The liquid was thick and sweet and warmed her through as it slid down her throat. The bitterness was nicely disguised by the honey, but a trace of it remained on her tongue. It was foreign to her, a smoky tartness that tickled her nose as she drank. She was all of a sudden reminded of the bottles that her father kept out of reach and were only taken down on special occasions or when there were guests to entertain. The taste of the liquid on her tongue reminded her of the scent of the air as each bottle was uncorked.

Eira took another sip and then lowered the vessel, gently placing it atop the table. Her eyes flickered across to Loki.

Loki's expression seemed a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his hands surrounding his own cup.

Eira gave a nod and smiled, "Very much. I've never had it before. What is it?"

Loki gave a smirk of his own, "Something I learned from a book I found." He finished with a slight shrug of his shoulders and Eira's smile faded a little as she noted Loki's vague answer.

She decided it didn't matter what the drink was. She liked it and it was doing just what the prince had said it would. She had had a headache - a souvenir from a night's worth of crying - but this was fading slowly with each mouthful of the bizarre concoction.

Eira allowed herself another sip from the cup, before turning her attention to the boy sitting opposite her. Her brow furrowed a little.

"Do you have a headache too?" She ventured, watching as Loki gave her a knowing smile.

"A little one." He began, giving a smug smile in a sideways glance, "Probably from being awake so early." He replied narrowing his eyes at Eira in playful scrutiny. He wanted a laugh or a witty retort, but instead Eira's gaze found the tabletop sheepishly.

"I'm sorry." She uttered.

Loki's expression turned serious, remorse and regret immediately crossing his countenance.

"No, I didn't mean it like that." He offered hastily, coaxing Eira to look up at him, "I'm sorry; that was thoughtless of me; Now is no time to be making jokes. My apologies."

Eira's gaze found his and he smiled comfortingly. Her azure eyes held forgiveness, "I understand."

For a moment, Loki expected the girl to elaborate. When she did not, guilt settled itself in his gut.

The room fell silent for a long while. Loki turned his attention to his left and the balustrade beyond the steps. He, all at once, noted the glow of the slowly rising sun.

"Eira." He began, returning his attention to the girl. Eira looked up at him, her face still awash with sadness and shame.

"Yes?" She croaked. The sound of her voice seemed to shock her since she cleared her throat and took another gulp of her drink.

"I want to take you somewhere." Loki watched as Eira's brow creased deeper. She eyed him suspiciously.

"Where?" Eira asked slowly.

"You'll like it, I promise." Loki replied, "But it'll be better if I show you rather than tell you." He paused for a moment, shrugging his shoulders a little and draining the remnants of his drink in a pantomime of nonchalance. "Besides, I'd rather it was a surprise."

Eira shook her head, tiring of the boy's ambiguity. She felt her blood bubbling beneath the surface of her skin. She forced herself calm and cleared her throat again. Her eyes found the table top and she pushed the now empty cup in her hands away to her side.

"I think I'd rather stay here. I want to be close to my father…Just in case there is any news. In case he needs me." The girl stopped herself at the bidding of the lump in her throat. It swelled again, threatening to choke her.

Loki gave a slow understanding nod.

"Look at me." He breathed.

Eira hesitated and when her eyes did eventually flicker upwards, Loki saw why. She was close to tears but trying her hardest not to cry.

"Eira, Ymir is going to be fine. The palace healers are unsurpassed; the best in all of Asgaard. He will be back to normal in no time at all, you'll see."

He smiled and was relieved to see the girl's lips twitch upwards a little in response. She gave a quiet sniff, as if she had deemed the action rude, and wiped at the tears in her eyes with the back of her left hand.

"In the mean time…" Loki stated, standing from his seat and pivoting to face Eira, "…let me show you this place I know of." His brow furrowed momentarily as a thought crossed his mind, "By way of apology, of course."

Eira swallowed and this lessened the hold the lump had on her throat. She wanted to stay in the palace. She wanted to be close to her father and listen for any news concerning his health. She wanted to sit by his bedside and watch him breathe just to know he was still alive.

A tear rolled down her right cheek. She looked up, caring not whether the prince saw it or not. She gave a slow, hesitant nod and attempted a smile.

She knew what she wanted to do, but she also knew what she needed. She wanted to stay with Ymir, but she needed to take her mind off the situation, even if that was only for a little while.

Eira stood and took a few steps towards the doorway. She paused for a moment, waiting for the prince to come along side her. When she heard no movement, she began to turn, halting the movement suddenly when she was greeted by Loki's smile and outstretched hand.

"Shall we?" He asked.

Eira gave a nod, sliding her hand into his. Loki strode towards the doorway, the girl lagging behind a little.

_This place will have to be something spectacular..._ Eira found herself thinking as Loki led her down the steps to the palace's main entrance. _It'll have to be if it's going to take my mind off of my father_...


	4. Serenity

**Chapter Four: Serenity.**

Eira stole a glance over her shoulder as the horse trotted through the gates of the palace courtyard. The steed began to quicken pace at Loki's bidding and Eira found herself instinctively looping her arms around the prince's middle and locking her fingers together lest she fall off.

"Erm…Loki?" Eira ventured, clearing her throat.

"Yes?"

"Shouldn't we tell someone where we are going?"

The girl felt the young prince's ribcage expand beneath her arms as he drew in a deep breath.

"I mean, won't anyone worry if they find you gone?"

Loki gave something of a short laugh and shook his head.

"No Eira…we will not be missed; We shall be back before anyone realises we were ever gone."

The young prince looked over his shoulder and shot Eira a reassuring smile, before returning his gaze forth and steering the horse to the right and down a barely-there dirt path. Eira remained silent, preferring instead to watch the scenery change around her.

As they left the palace courtyard a scattering of small, angular houses greeted them, but these became more sparse as Loki set his sights on the fields beyond.

They passed through the city gates with ease, the guards either ignorant or uncaring of their presence.

After a vastness of scrubland and fields, the ground beneath them became steeper and Eira's breath hitched in her throat as the mount shakily traversed the incline only halting at Loki's sudden tension on the reigns. Looking around the prince, Eira could see they had stopped before a thick mass of tall and foreboding trees. She felt Loki shift his weight slightly and she swiftly released him from her arms. The girl watched as the prince slid from the steed and then turned to her, holding out a hand to help her down.

Eira let Loki help her and then stood aside him as the pair surveyed the forest before them. Loki wore a smirk and shifted his gaze sideways to glean Eira's reaction. Hers was a look of apprehension and awe; never had she seen a forest so dark before. She was sure there could not be enough space between the tree trunks to walk through.

"Shall we?" Loki asked suddenly, waking Eira from her thoughts and receiving an uncertain nod from the girl.

The prince stepped over to the horse and took up the reigns in his left hand, before leading the creature through into the trees.

Loki felt Eira's presence at his side as she came level with him.

"It's not too much farther." He assured her.

Eira gave a nod to signal that she had understood and for a long while neither said anything. All that could be heard were the rustling of the leaves in the canopy overhead and the chirping of birds in the distance. Eira's gaze snapped sideways at a flash of movement on the floor to her right and gasped as a mouse emerged from the dead leaves. The rodent paused only for a second, sniffed at the air and disappeared into the humus again, seemingly finding their presence off-putting.

Eira found herself smiling at the tiny animal's behaviour.

"I like it here." She said, finally, shifting her gaze upwards and closing her eyes to savour the serenity of her surroundings. Upon opening her eyes, she turned her focus to Loki.

"Thank you for bringing me here." Eira offered.

The prince gave a short laugh which caused the girl's brow to furrow.

"You're welcome…but this isn't what I wanted to show you."

Eira narrowed her eyes at him, but Loki merely rolled his own and continued forwards.

Eira pressed the prince for the meaning behind his last response, but Loki seemed reluctant to oblige. So, for lack of options, the girl followed after him silently.

It was not long before the trees began to stand farther apart from one another until they eventually surrendered the pair to a meadow, pock-marked with hardy shrubs and heather.

Here, Loki secured the horse's reigns to a lonely tree aside a small pool of water. The ease and speed with which he tied the knot, suggested to Eira that it was something the prince did often. The horse further confirmed her suspicions as it sauntered to the edge of the pool with nonchalance. It dropped it's nose to the water in confidence, sure that it would be undisturbed for as long as it remained there.

Eira started slightly as the prince came alongside her and took her hand in his own. Beaming, Loki guided her forth, breaking into a sprint in excitement.

Eira struggled to keep level with Loki and almost toppled forwards at the abruptness with which the prince stopped. She felt an arm across her chest and it was only when she righted herself and followed Loki's gaze did she realise why.

Loki had led her to a cliff over-looking a small bay. In the distance, dark clouds speckled the burnt orange skies, causing the sea below to take on a melancholy air. Eira swept Loki's arm aside and leaned forwards over the edge of the cliff. She kept a grip on his hand, though, just to be safe. She could just make out a ledge below that they might jump to, but she could see no other pathway that would enable them to reach the bay.

"Can we get down there?" Eira asked, turning sideways to face Loki who nodded thoughtfully and released her hand.

"There is a path down, but it's difficult to traverse and not very safe." He informed her.

A look of disappointment swept over the girl's countenance.

"Oh." She offered, turning her gaze to the horizon again, content to watch the tumultuous heavens if they could not make it to the beach.

Eira felt an elbow in her ribs as Loki disturbed her thoughts. He raised an eyebrow at her and folded his arms.

"But we don't need a path, do we?" With this and a somewhat impish grin, the prince vanished.

Eira laughed at her own stupidity and disappeared, appearing on the dark grey sand below within a second.

It took her a moment to locate Loki, but she found him lying on his back a little way off, green eyes skyward expectantly and hands clasped calmly atop his stomach. Tentatively, Eira started forth and dropped to her knees beside the prince. She lowered herself into a similar position beside him.

At first, Eira could not fathom what Loki was watching so attentively, but after a second an army of dust coloured clouds edged into her field of vision. The girl was sure they were the same clouds that had hovered at the horizon just mere moments ago and found herself in awe of their speed.

Eira's focus found the prince beside her, but he did not move to look at her. She got the impression he was watching her from his peripherals, though, since a smile ghosted to his lips and he blinked once, slowly and with instruction.

At the bidding of a snarl of thunder, Eira's gaze was torn from Loki and to the grey haze above.

The clouds seemed to pulsate and writhe overhead and it took Eira a second or two to realise the movement was a result of snowfall. Wrapt, she watched as minute snowflakes and minuscule jewels of ice shimmered and swirled before their dust-coloured backdrop. A few moments passed and Eira was surprised to find that she had yet to feel the cold against her skin. The snowflakes did not reach the beach, snatched away by unseen zephyrs before they could even taste the black sand. Stealing a glance at the prince beside her, the girl found him to be smiling, but he did not turn to her.

The pair watched in silence until the storm clouds dissipated, some retreating to the horizon and others merely disappearing as if they themselves had been students of Ymir.

"That was beautiful." Eira breathed as she sat up. Loki chuckled and did the same.

"I thought you might like it." The prince replied.

Eira nodded fervently, "And I did! It was amazing. I kept thinking the snow would reach us and that we would get cold and wet, but it never did!"

The pair shared laughter at this, before Eira leant forwards and folded the prince into a hug.

"Thank you, Loki."


	5. Guarded

**Chapter 5: Guarded.**

By the time Eira and Loki returned to the palace, an azure blue had chased the burnt amber hue from the skies above. Loki would have been content to stay away, to while away a few more hours in the company of Eira and the grip of distraction. True, it was not his father who was unwell, but he still felt a sincere sadness in his heart whenever he thought on the ailing sorcerer. He could only imagine what Eira was feeling.

Loki had tried his best to keep the girl's mind from recent events, but it had been an exhausting task. A task Loki was sure he had failed. He had seen it in Eira's eyes when he suggested a visit to the market place, promising of sweet pastries and a game of mischief. At first, the girl had seemed acquiescent, but in the moment that he mentioned it would involve a trickery only they knew - both being students of Ymir, of course - Eira's manner had darkened. She had subsequently seemed less than enthusiastic and barely said one word on the journey towards the bustling stalls.

Loki had turned the horse just as they had come in sight of the market and had ridden away from the coaxing cries of the stallholders, instead returning to the stables where he and Eira had dismounted and spent a while tending to the loyal steed. Loki had handed Eira a brush whilst he left momentarily to fetch a pale of fresh water. When he returned, bucket in arms and an apple tucked under his chin, Eira was smoothing the horse's mane silently and thoughtfully. The horse in turn nuzzled the girl with a knowing affection and Loki all-at-once felt grateful to the creature. Eira seemed calmed by the animal's innate intuition and stroked the horse's nose with her free hand.

Silently, Loki placed the bucket within reach of the horse, watching with satisfaction as it dipped its head to lap up the refreshing offering. Loki then lifted his chin, nonchalantly allowing the apple to roll down his chest before catching it deftly just as it reached his stomach. He held it out for Eira with a nod and she accepted it with a smile, taking it in her free hand and holding it in a flat palm for the horse to take. It took only a few seconds for the horse to catch the scent, lift its head and champ gently at the piece of fruit. When it was gone, Loki made to move from the stables and Eira followed, absent-mindedly wiping her hand on her tunic. She placed the brush atop a nearby bale of hay and came alongside Loki just as he exited the stables.

Wordlessly, they headed for the palace and ascended the steps knowingly and in silence. The palace was awake now and bustled with the presence of servants and guards. A group of well-dressed men and women loitered before the entrance to the Throne Room, no doubt waiting to consult with the Allfather, but the pair paid them no heed.

Eventually, they came upon the door to the healing room and they shared a resolute breath before stepping over the threshold. Loki was surprised to feel Eira take his hand. He gave a slight squeeze, partly to reassure her, but mostly in an attempt to stay the tremour he felt in her fingers.

The pair made their way solemnly through the room, the mood around them sombre and reverent; a gift from the dimmed lightly and silence punctuated only by the occasional cough or groan. Loki was glad to find the room mostly empty, with only a few beds occupied. Though he was careful to keep his gaze forward and his step sure, Loki could not help but take notice of the injured people as he passed.

Nearest the door and to the left hand side was a dazed man holding a hand to his stomach, grimacing every few seconds. The man wore only a light brown tunic, but Loki found he had no problem imagining the man in armour and supposed perhaps he was a palace guard. Further down the room towards the right, there were two beds occupied side by side, one by a man and the other a woman. Both the man and woman were unconscious and as Loki and Eira passed one of the palace healers approached, laying a gentle hand to each one's forehead in turn.

As the pair continued forwards, the air around them buzzed with a warm and unobtrusive humming sound. It pulsed with much the same rhythm as a heartbeat and as they approached, Loki took note of its source. At the back of the room, on the very last bed to the left, lay Ymir. He was unconscious and looked peaceful, shrouded in a cocoon of golden light. The light both comforted and scared Loki as he realised he had seen something similar before.

A few years prior, Frigga had led her sons to Odin's bedside. They had stared in silence a few moments, wondering why their father was so still and looked so weak. Frigga had remained calm and still, her ever-present smile characteristically unwavering. It was this smile that had comforted Loki somewhat. After all, what was there to be scared of if their mother was staying so calm?

Thor had not noticed the smile and had hastily released Frigga's hand, rushing to Odin's bedside and reaching through the golden dome of light to take the Allfather's hand. Frigga had knelt then, warmth and love in her eyes as she drew Loki into her side and held out a hand for Thor. Thor had turned from Odin's side and approached his mother, sniffing and wiping at his own damp orbs. For hours the trio had sat on the chamber floor with Frigga patiently answering any questions the boys posed and explaining the meaning of the Odinsleep.

"The light...", Frigga began, arms around her boys and regarding each one in turn, "...heals and renews. It contains the magic of many generations and, even though it might look scary now, it will help your father to become strong again. We just need to be patient and wait for the magic to work."

"But why?" Loki had asked curiously, "Why does he have to sleep?"

"Yes, I thought father was the strongest Asgaardian ever. He can't die!" Thor interjected irrationally, a few fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

Frigga gave a small chuckle, "He is not dying, Thor. He is merely sleeping. Your Father is very strong and very powerful." She paused a moment or two, fixing her gaze lovingly and pityingly on her husband. "But, he is also very old and, sometimes, he must sleep to regain his strength. This is how he can continue to protect the Nine Realms for years to come."

Loki watched the pulsing light, transfixed. It reminded him of a soap bubble; opalescent colours swirling on the delicate transparent surface. He doubted the integrity of the light, failing to see how something that looked so fragile could help at all.

"How long will he be asleep, mother?" Loki ventured, not really certain he wanted to know the answer. This notion was further cemented when he felt Frigga shrug gently.

"I do not know. It could be a few weeks or a month or two..." Frigga's voice trailed off and Loki thought he caught a note of sadness in her voice.

"You are unsure?" The younger prince pressed, fixing his mother with eyes tainted by fear.

Frigga shook her head and closed her eyes momentarily, "I will not lie to you, my sons...Your father was weaker this time. I have not seen him so exhausted for a long time, centuries even...There is a chance that he will take a long time to wake up..."

Happily, Odin had spent only a month or so at rest before waking full of vigour and strength to the relief of the palace. The night of his waking, there had been a large feast and Thor and Loki, happier than most to see Odin resume his presence at the Palace, had spent the entire night by their father's side. As the festivities wound down, the two princes had snuck into their parents' chamber to see if the golden dome was still there. When they found it absent, they had crawled onto the bed and had discussed the bizarre occurrence between them. The conversation had turned to how strong their father was, how they hoped he would live forever and then, customarily whenever they talked fondly of their father, to who would be the better king of them both.

"When I am king, I will be too busy to sleep!" Thor announced triumphantly, tucking himself beneath the fresh blankets to keep the evening chill at bay.

"Oh?" Loki probed with a yawn, rolling onto his side to face his brother and bunching a pillow beneath his head.

"Of Course! I will be far too busy conquering realms or throwing great parties!"

Loki smirked and shook his head slightly, allowing his heavy lids to fall closed. "I think there is a lot more to being king than just fighting and drinking, brother."

"Like what?" Came the reply accompanied by Thor's own long and loud yawn.

"Like making laws and attending counsel...You have to go to ceremonies and talk to other kings and queens. You have to be fair and just and set a good example for your people..."

"That would be no fun! I'll just leave all that stuff to you!"

Loki gave a chuckle and found himself unable to retort at the bidding of fatigue. The pair fell into silence and then to sleep, unaware even of the arrival of Odin and Frigga. The King and Queen, unwilling to disturb the boys had merely shared a loving smile and threaded themselves around their sleeping sons, Odin with his arm beneath Thor's head and Loki in the protective embrace of Frigga.

Loki thought fondly of that night and of how he had learned of the healing light, but there was also the pinprick of doubt. How unwell was Ymir that the healers had to use the same magic as the Odinsleep to heal him? And would it even work for him, a sorcerer yes, but not the Allfather?

Loki's train of thought was broken by the absence of Eira's hand in her own. Looking up, he found her in the embrace of a woman who was unknown to him. Beside the woman stood a man and behind him, rising from a bench was Frigga. Unbidden, Loki's feet carried him to his mother and he looped his arms around her waist, relaxing somewhat at the presence of her hand on his shoulders.

"Loki, Eira. I am glad you are here." Frigga spoke calmly and through a comforting smile.

Loki felt the absence of Frigga's hand and followed his mother's silent prompt, releasing her. He stood silently, resolve keeping his eyes from Ymir and instead resting on the strangers. He nodded politely as his Frigga introduced them.

"Loki, this is Mjoll and Ivan, Eira's aunt and uncle."

Loki couldn't be certain, but he thought he heard the man grunt something that sounded like the word 'Ex'. He reasoned it could have been one of the other patients and extended the customary greeting of 'It's nice to meet you' anyway, knowing that his mother would be pleased with his manners.

Mjoll and Ivan nodded politely and then Mjoll turned her gaze to the girl at her waist.

"Eira will be staying with us for a few days until her father becomes well again."

Eira did not exactly bridle at this revelation, but she looked up imploringly at her Aunt and Uncle, tears threatening to fall.

"Will I still be able to come and visit father?" She squeaked, trying her hardest to keep the tremour from around the words.

Mjoll opened her mouth to speak, but it was Frigga who answered.

"Of course you can, Eira."

"Everyday?"

"Of course."

Eira, seemingly satisfied with this, spared one last, pitying glance to Ymir before allowing herself to be led away by Mjoll. Ivan fell into step beside his wife and all three made their way to the exit.

After a few moments, when they were about halfway to the door, Eira turned back and waved good bye to Loki, calling back a short but sincere, "Thank you."

It was only a momentarily gesture, but it lifted Loki's spirits nevertheless.

Loki and his mother left the Healing Room soon after and walked together for a while.

Frigga implored Loki to find Thor and go play with him and his friends, but Loki had argued that he had already been outside for most of the day and needed to catch up on his reading, given that Ymir would not be able to school him for the foreseeable future.

Frigga had remitted with a playful scoff and had watched proudly after her son as he turned down the hallway leading to the library.


	6. Newcomer

**Chapter 6: Newcomer.**

Loki descended the steps with a greater deal of care than the youths who preceded him. They would mock him later for being so slow, he was sure, but, in the end, he was not going to be the one lying in the Healing Room with a broken leg.

At that point in time, Loki wagered it would be Fandral as the unfortunate individual. Thor had given him a playful shove and, of course, Fandral had retaliated, and if past experience was anything to go by, neither one of them would stop until one of them was injured. Fandral was a competent fighter, but even at this young age, Thor's strength could best any of them.

Loki rolled his eyes light-heartedly, passing the wrestling youths and making sure they saw the expression.

Sif the newest member of Thor's rapidly widening circle of friends stood to the side of the staircase. She laughed at the boys and nudged Volstagg teasingly in the ribs. The red-headed youth didn't seem to have noticed, his gaze trained though it was on a fast-diminishing bread roll.

Loki could see in Sif's eyes that she was desperate to join in the fray and he shot her an encouraging smile. He watched Sif side step slightly, clenching her fists. Loki readied himself, drawing on his teachings and deliberating his options. He outstretched his hands and smile at the tingle of magic in his fingertips.

Sif tensed her muscles, ready to leap in as soon as Loki created an opening for her. She waited with baited breath, but there was nothing; no flash of green light, no decoy to distract the brawlers, nothing.

Sif tore her gaze away from Thor and Fandral and looked around for Loki. He had moved behind her and was now a few steps further down on the staircase than the rest of the group. Sif wasn't surprised that he had managed to execute this manoeuvre without her noticing. She was, however, surprised to find his focus transfixed by a girl.

Thor and Fandrall ceased fighting to locate Loki also and, before long, the entire group were regarding the dark haired Prince with curiosity.

Loki had spotted Eira climbing the first few steps of the staircase with trepidation. She seemed solemn, more so than the last time he had seen her. He shot a genuine smile in her direction. She looked up suddenly, almost as if she had sensed him watching her, and gave an awkward nod in greeting. Loki waited for the girl to come level with him before speaking.

"Did you get lost again?" He mused, noticing a sad smile twitching at her lips.

"No…" She responded, in a tone that suggested he should know better. She opened her mouth as if she were about to speak but said nothing. Loki noticed her gaze shift upwards and he pivoted (as gracefully as the steps would allow him to). The would-be warriors watched on, curious and silent, not quite understanding how Loki, quiet and studious and more often found in the company of books than people, could know someone that they didn't. Thor equipped his most charming smile and approached the stranger. His gaze shifted momentarily to catch his brother's eye before returning to the girl.

"Are you not going to introduce us, Loki?"

Eira attempted a smile and slowly raised her eyes to meet those of the golden haired boy. Loki didn't miss the resolve-steeling breath that Eira had taken before tearing her gaze from the steps, subtle though it was. Something in his gut told him that Eira's visit was not a joyous one and he was sure that the girl would rather bypass the group altogether. However, Loki knew better than most that Thor wouldn't let up until he got his own way.

Inwardly chiding the golden boy for his selfishness, Loki placed a comforting hand on Eira's shoulder and gestured to his - or more accurately Thor's - friends each in turn.

"This is Volstagg."

Eira nodded in greeting to a red-headed youth of a moderate height. His shoulder length hair was left loose save for a single plait that swung by the left side of his face. This, in turn, was round but amicable, even with the few wayward crumbs stuck to the corner of his mouth.

"And Sif." Loki directed, turning his gaze to a fresh faced, raven haired girl who Eira thought looked to be about her own age.

Sif started forward with great confidence and took Eira's left hand in both her own. She shook it gently but vigorously enough that the ill fitting bracers she wore (and that Eira supposed might belong to an older sibling) clinked and rattled with the action.

"Pleased to meet you." Sif avered, smile sickly sweet.

Eira managed a half smile in response and fought the urge to turn her gaze back towards the palace, thinking the action impolite.

Sif released her and Loki gestured to the remaining two of the group.

"And Fandral..." Loki's voice trailed off as one of the blonde haired pair, the Skinnier of the two, cocked a crooked yet charming smile and raised the fore fingers of his right hand to his temple in a momentarily salute.

"And, of course, my brothe-"

"Thor!" The remaining boy interrupted, all but leaping towards the newcomer.

Eira found herself startled at the sudden proclamation and she shot a momentarily glance to Loki who responded by rolling his eyes and smiling wryly. Eira found she had only a second to seek the darker prince's opinion before Thor had taken her hand in his, deftly moving her a step or two away from Loki. Eira all at once missed the warmth of Loki's comforting hand on her shoulder but was distracted as Thor bent his frame (muscular even at this young age) at the waist and planted a kiss on the hand in his grasp.

Surprised and unaccustomed to such attention, Eira slid her hand from Thor's grip swiftly and brought it defensively to her chest.

Thor's brow furrowed and for a moment an impertinent anger hovered in his thoughts. This ebbed away after a second or two however as he noted how the girl stepped away from him and towards his brother. He shook the anger from his mind, choosing instead a more amicable countenance.

"My apologies. I did not mean to offend." The golden prince offered, satisfied when Eira relaxed a little and shook her head.

"No...it's alright...you merely surprised me. It's nice to meet you...all of you." Eira finished with a sweeping gaze of the assembled children. "My name is Eira."

Volstagg, Sif and Fandral nodded, seemingly satisfied and keen to get back on track with their plans of adventure for the day. Thor, it seemed, was not so keen.

"What brings to you the palace, Eira? If you've no plans then you'd be most welcome to join us."

Thor turned to his friends to illustrate his point. The assembled youths nodded in agreement at his wordless instruction.

Eira affected a smile, hoping this would keep the tremour from her voice, "Thank you for the invitation, but I am here to see my father; he is sick and...I-I need to see him."

Loki laid an arm on Eira's shoulder and felt her lean into him a little.

"I'll come with you." He offered, earning himself a nod in gratitude from the girl as she looked up to meet his gaze.

"Nonsense, Loki!" Thor chuckled, "You were going to come with us! How will we ever explore Alftanenzel without you?"

Loki's brow furrowed, but he shot the golden boy an assertive smile that felt somewhat out of place on his countenance.

"I'm sure the ruins can wait brother." He offered, half turning as he felt Eira pull away to resume her ascension of the steps, "Besides, you will all have more fun without me."

Loki finished in a light-hearted tone and with no malice. It was no secret that the would-be warriors preferred Thor's company to his own. They tolerated him because Thor wanted him around and, even though Loki tried to join in and gain their favour where he could, he couldn't see it being a permanent arrangement. In fact, if it wasn't for Frigga's insistence that Loki be included, he would have no problem with spending his spare time in his room or in the library.

Thor shook his head and watched Loki only for a second longer before sticking his tongue out at his brother's back and spurring his friends on with an impish smile. Before long the adventurous foursome had left the palace grounds in a cacophony of laughter and playful shouting.


	7. Disarmament

**Chapter 7: Disarmament.**

Loki and Eira received a stern, but not exactly angered glance from the healer closest the door as they crossed the threshold into the healing room. Loki gave a nod in grateful acknowledgement as he passed. He even afforded the healer a somewhat submissive smile, wishing at the very least to put the young man at ease that they didn't intend to cause trouble.

Eira did not notice the healer, nor the others present in the room, her gaze set on the back left hand corner. Loki fell into step easily beside her, even though she proceeded with a determined gait. He was a little disheartened to see the golden dome still pulsating above Ymir. He had hoped that the sorcerer would have shown a little improvement by now...true, it had only been a couple of days, but even so, it felt wrong to see him like this; so still, so silent. Ymir was usually so full of energy, despite his age. He was always a kind and fair teacher and one of the few that actually appeared to take genuine pleasure in Loki's company. In his lessons, Loki was unrestricted, noticed for his strengths and unchided for his curiousity. Ymir answered any and all questions with honesty and patience and Loki felt suddenly overwhelmed by the thought that his teacher might never awaken.

Shaking his head momentarily to rid his mind of the unwelcome notion, Loki pivoted slightly to find Eira on the bench beside Ymir's bed. He perched alongside her. For a few moments the pair sat still, eyes fixed firmly on the fallen sorcerer, willing him with all their childish might, to awaken to them.

Loki's heart skipped a beat as he thought he registered some slight movement in Ymir's left hand. However, when the man neither shifted or sat up, he reasoned it must have been a trick of the light. He deflated a little, tiring of watching and waiting.

'What happened?' Loki asked, breaking the silence, but being careful to keep his voice low.

Eira gave a shrug, 'In truth, I don't know exactly...'

Her voice trailed off as if she was deep in thought about what she could say. Loki felt his brow furrow and a thought hovered momentarily that perhaps Eira knew more than she was letting on.

'Are you sure? You didn't see anything?' Loki pressed gently, watching as a small film of liquid started to shine in the girl's blue eyes.

Eira responded only with a shake of her head and silence settled around them again. Loki shifted towards Eira, placing an arm round her shoulders. He applied a slight and careful pressure, satisfied when the girl leant in to his side.

'You know you can tell me, Eira. If it's bad, I won't say anything to the healers or my mother...but, if you want to tell me something then you can...'

Loki felt Eira shake her head slowly on his shoulder. He shifted slightly so that his chin was resting lightly on the girl's head. After what seemed like an age of quietude, Eira's little voice, barely more than a whisper, reached Loki's ears.

'Do you think it would help my father?'

Loki gave a shrug and raised his eyebrows in thought, 'It depends, Eira...it depends on what it is that you saw, whether it's relevant and whether anything can be done to reverse any adverse affects...'

Loki's voice trailed off, his eyes unmoving from his incapacitated teacher.

'I did see something...' Eira started, pushing away from Loki and meeting his gaze, '...but, I can't tell you here; there are too many people around.'

The girl finished with a sweeping glance of the healing room. True, the grimacing man with the upset stomach had vanished, but there was still the ailing couple and at least three healers present.

Loki gave an understanding nod and rose from the bench. He held out a hand to Eira and found himself glad when she took it. Together, the pair left the healing room and set about traversing the hallways and corridors, hand-in-hand until Loki led the girl to a tall goldenstone door, carved with a myriad of different animals in a forest setting. Eira caught sight of snakes, wolves and even a horse or two before Loki pushed the door open and the scene was gone from view.

Loki gave an instructional nod and Eira obediently entered what appeared to be a bed chamber. Dark green curtains hung opposite the chamber door and the colour seemed to follow through to most other soft furnishings in the room; the cushions on the chair by the bookshelves, the blankets and pillows on the bed and even the fabric banners that hung either side of the door.

Eira found she liked the way the room looked, but didn't have the time to comment before Loki gestured to the reading chair whilst he perched himself on the edge of the bed.

'So...what did you see?' The prince asked, keen to find out any information that may have even the slightest chance of bringing Ymir back to them.

Eira shifted beneath Loki's gaze and her eyes met his own, seemingly searching for any evidence that she could trust him entirely. The moments passed in silence and Loki's brow furrowed, an idea hovering for a moment.

'We're perfectly safe here, Eira...No one will hear what you have to say.' He allowed a moment's pause, letting his eyes slide closed and reaching out gently with his mind. He didn't have to look very hard to locate Eira's consciousness. It was loud; screaming with fear and sadness and guilt. Loki took a breath, slow and calming, hoping it might insight these feelings in the girl.

_Or...if you'd feel more comfortable... _The young prince began, opening his eyes and fixing Eira with a warm, empathetic smile, _You can tell me this way. _

Loki found himself a little surprised to find Eira's eyes suddenly glistening with moisture. She sniffed and wiped at her right eye with the back of her hand.

Eira's small voice ventured tentatively into his mind's ear, surrounded by an aura of gratitude, _Thank you, Loki._

* * *

Alftanenzel loomed above the would-be adventurers, a testament to the skill and grandeur of a thousand unnamed ancestors.

Thor approached with something akin to hesitant reverence, turning his gaze upwards to the pair of stone denizens standing guard either side of the black, gaping entrance carved into the rock. The prospect of adventure should have propelled him forth, just as it had done many a time before, but now the gaze of the stone soldiers pierced him with an unease he was unaccustomed to.

Sure, he and his friends had played amongst the ruins for years, but never without Loki. His younger brother, with his skill at magic and ability to read situations in a single second, had always been the voice of reason within the group. Loki could foresee the chain of events that even one small action may cause and often averred caution if he thought something was amiss. Thor made it a point to never listen in the first instance, making his brother work for his acquiescence, but - whether Loki realised it or not - Thor always agreed eventually. Even in the times they had fought and Loki had stormed off amidst the mocking laughter from his brother's entourage, Thor was careful to act nonchalant and cocksure before feigning boredom or fatigue and leading the group on to safer adventures.

Fandral was suddenly at Thor's side, a makeshift sword made of sticks in his right hand. He brandished it joyfully.

'Onward to adventure?' he chuckled, giving Thor a playful nudge with his free elbow.

Thor raised an eyebrow, smirking, 'Would it be much of an adventure, Fandral?'

Sif and Volstagg approached, catching up with the blonde pair. Sif's brow furrowed, suddenly concerned.

'Whatever do you mean?' She asked.

Thor gave a shrug in response, still trying his utmost to keep his unease suitably concealed.

'Is it Loki?' Sif piped up, intuitively. Her eyes rested on Thor for a moment before she turned her gaze to the ruins expertly hewn into the cliff face.

Thor gave a loud and indignant laugh. Volstagg subconsciously followed the echo around them with his eyes.

'Of course not, Sif; how preposterous! I am afraid my brother was right when he said we would have more fun without him!' Thor paused a moment for effect, but Fandral started forward excitedly, stick sword sweeping through the air haphazardly in different directions.

'Excellent!' Fandral started, continuing his sentence through athletic breaths of air, 'Then we'll venture onwards...Fighting Monsters...Exploring caverns...' His voice trailed off and his actions slowed. He sidled closer to Sif and afforded her a teasing wink, 'Rescuing damsels in distress!'

Barely a moment after the words escaped his lips, Fandral lost his footing at the bidding of an unseen force. He could not help but to gasp as his back connected with the unrelenting ground, knocking the breath from his lungs. He found himself dazed for a second or two and wondered how he had come to be in such a position. The answer invaded his peripherals in the form of his own makeshift weapon pointed squarely at his chest. He slowly elevated his gaze and found Sif's thin fingers curled around the hilt, her free hand gloatingly set on her hip and an eyebrow raised smugly. Fandral suddenly became aware of laughter from Volstagg and Thor and shook his head, somewhat embarrassed.

'As if you two could do any better!' Fandral offered in jest, accepting Sif's hand to help him to his feet.

Volstagg shook his head and clapped a heavy hand on Fandral's shoulder, 'We'd have the sense not to try!'

Sif, glowing with a smug satisfaction, handed Fandral back his sword. The boy took it, tucking it into his tunic belt and bowing low in a pantomime of submission. Sif shook her head and ran a playful hand through Fandral's golden hair.

Volstagg, rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Thor who, by now, had turned his back on Alftanenzel, despite the unrelenting gaze of it's guardians. The golden prince kicked absent-mindedly at a small pebble by his foot.

'So are we going in?' Volstagg probed.

Thor gave a final shake of his head and strode a few paces in the opposite direction, 'I tire of this place. Let us to the marketplace!'

With this, Thor gave a final nod and the three friends followed after him. Sif and Fandral shared a disheartened shrug, but Volstagg fell into step beside the prince, grinning at the prospect of all the edible treats the marketplace had to offer.

* * *

_**I wasn't planning on doing author notes for this fic as I think they have the potential to take away from the story. However, I have changed my mind (at least for now) with the revelation that I actually have some reviews. I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who have reviewed so far; It means a lot to me that someone is reading and enjoying it. **_

_**So thank you to NatalieRushman, Trickstertales and guest (and guest if you are two separate people). You guys are the best! Thanks again!**_


	8. The Darkest Magic

**Chapter Eight: The Darkest Magic.**

The silence hung thick in the air around them, so much so that Loki was sure he could hear his own heartbeat. It was almost as if the entire realm had gasped in unison and was now trying to make sense of Eira's revelation.

Loki opened his mouth to speak, almost forgetting himself. He rectified this swiftly, however, noting the fretful widening of Eira's eyes at the action.

_Are you certain? _

Eira nodded absolutely, a darkness passing over her countenance, _You don't forget a book like that, Loki..._

The prince found his mind flickering with imagination, the would-be scholar in him daring to conjure the pages of such a tome. The pictures, bold and crawling across the parchment in red and black; mimicking the gruesome viscera needed for such spells. Or perhaps he was wrong; perhaps the pages would be beautiful, impressive cursive etched in gold and silver, the words reverent and solemn, respectful and authoritative.

Whichever way they were written the words would be powerful. Powerful and dangerous; the fallen sorcerer in the healing room was testament to that...

Loki found his brow furrowing and he fixed Eira inquisitively, _Where is the book now?_

Eira gave a shrug, but offered only a single word, _Hidden._

_Where? _

Eira attempted a jovial tone, though her expression remained wary, _If I told you that, it wouldn't be hidden. _

The girl watched a moment, savouring the momentary smile that tugged at Loki's lips. She felt his voice in her mind again, coaxing yet kind.

_Eira, we need to get that book. _Loki paused a second, reading Eira's apprehension. He fixed her with a serious expression, something he hoped she might find reassuring, _There might be something in it that could help Ymir. _

Eira knew Loki was right, that there was a possibility that something in those velum leaves could bring her father back to her, but the prospect was daunting. The moment she had found it, spread-eagled aside her father's spasming body, it had terrified her. She didn't need to be a student of magic to understand the runes on the cover, didn't need to be Ymir's daughter to know he had done something dangerous, didn't need to be a child to know she was in the presence of something dark and powerful.

Before even helping her father, she had reached out for the book, grimacing as she forced the cover closed and threw it as hard as she could to the other side of the room. In fact, she had thrown it so hard, it had burst through the door ajar and skidded to a halt beneath the dresser in the main living area, almost as if instinctively seeking out the darkest space in the house.

Only then, when the tome was far enough away not to threaten for the moment, had she then seen to her father, using all the knowledge and magic she possessed to try to combat the sorcery enthralling him. She had been shaking herself when she finally lowered Ymir's heavy head onto his pillow. His eyes were open, but unfocused, swirling with unfathomable gratitude intermixed with shame and pity and sadness. Eira could only look down on him with watery eyes, subconsciously wiping at them with the back of her hand when she could spare it.

All the while, a single word buzzed inside her skull: _Why? _

Once certain that Ymir would be safe, at least for a short while, Eira had crossed the room slowly and with trepidation, backing away from the fallen sorcerer. His eyes slid lazily closed, but Eira took some small comfort in the fact that she could see his chest rising and falling. As she reached the door she listened, waiting to recognise the sound of Ymir's breathing, committing it to memory so she would know should it stop. Leaving the door ajar, Eira cross the living space as silently as she could.

No sooner did she tear her gaze away from the door, did it fall to the dresser.

After what seemed like an age of deliberation, Eira set her brow and plucked the book from it's refuge, holding it away from her as far as she could before shrouding it in a blanket and taking it with her outside. It panicked Eira to be so far from her father in his weakened state, but she knew the book couldn't remain in the house; someone would come eventually, either by chance or by Heimdall's bidding. And, even despite Ymir's current condition, there was still a chance of recovery. If someone found the book, however, Ymir would be taken from her, locked away forever for possession of the forbidden tome. Odin would not care of Ymir's motives or even if he was somehow successful in his experiment. He would exact the law as ruthlessly as was in his power and Eira would be left entirely on her own.

Even if she was lucky and still had a home and someone to care for her (a kind-hearted soul who couldn't bare to see her starve on the streets, perhaps) she would never escape the whispers and rumours that would follow:

_'Isn't that Ymir's girl?'_

_'She's lucky to be alive right now!'_

_'You really think he tried to kill her?'_

_'Sacrifice is the only way that magic works!' _

_'Poor thing.'_

_'Still, Ymir got what was coming to him!'_

_'There's a reason that that magic was banned!'_

Maybe they would die down after a while, but there would still be a shadow over her name, an intangible stain, forever tying her to the darkest of all magics.

It was not this that would make her bitter in the end though...no, the thought that would burrow into her mind like a maggot, writhing and feeding and growing until it filled her entire head with a black and buzzing smog, would be that she was not enough.

The thought that she was not enough for her father. That he couldn't be happy in just her company. That he would never love her as much as he had loved her mother.

_And,_ Eira would begin to think over and over and over, _maybe not enough for anyone. _

And so she hid it, in a little place she was certain only she could find and she trod determinedly back to the house to watch her father until he woke the next morning, gesturing languidly to the quill and ink. He seemed to be improved, if only a little, and Eira found herself daring to believe he would be alright as he dictated the scroll through rasping yet coherent breaths. Ymir had signed the scroll shakily and Eira had argued when he asked of her the task of delivering it to the palace. In the end, she had accepted, reasoning that arguing about it was going to do little to improve Ymir's condition.

Upon returning home, the visit to the palace improving her mood just a little, Eira had prepared a soup and fed her father spoonful by spoonful, lifting each one to his lips as steadily as her trembling hands would allow. She had eaten nothing herself, content instead to sit by Ymir's bedside, willing his body to heal with all her might. She remained steadfast in the hope that he would rise from the bed with a wide smile and an exclamation that it had all been a game of trickery. Eira thought that she wouldn't even think this cruel, so long as her father was well again.

The moment she was woken by frantic fists on her front door, was the moment that hopelessness had overtaken her. She had dared to believe that her efforts were making a difference, that Ymir's face had a little more colour each time she had looked at it. But then came the guards, panic in their voices and haste in their actions.

_'Heimdall said we are to take him to the palace, at once.' _

_'What about the child?' _

_'Her too, I expect. Can't just leave her here.'_

_'Come along, little one. Everything is going to be alright.'_

By then, Eira had been too tired to protest, letting gold-plated arms lift her onto the back of a horse. She found the cold night air strangely soothing and found herself dozing, waking occasionally if the rider spurred the mount into a tight corner, or picked up speed suddenly without warning.

Eira had wondered if she had been dreaming when she was lifted down from the horse, feeling her heart almost burst with despair, watching bleary-eyed as the heavy limp weight of Ymir being lifted down and away from her. Maybe for good...

'Eira?'

The gentle sound of Loki's voice pierced the smog of memories around her and Eira found herself looking over at the prince through an unwelcome blur. Loki approached her slowly and steadily, almost as if she was a wild animal and he was afraid she would run away if startled. Eira let him pull her into a warm embrace, but she held her breath against the tears she knew would fall if she let them.

'We'll do whatever you want, alright?' he began, taking deep and calming breaths deliberately, 'You don't have to tell me where the book is hidden and we can just leave it to rot away. I'm sure the healers will be able to make Ymir well again without it. They are the best, after all...'

Eira rested her head against Loki's shoulder.

'You don't even need to make a decision right now...We can wait until morning or even later still.'

'Loki.'

'We could even take a few days to decide, visit Ymir everyday and see if he improves.'

'Loki.'

'Then there's also the library. There's a whol-'

_Loki!_

_Yes?_

Eira took a breath to steel her resolved, lifting her head to meet Loki's emerald orbs.

_I've decided. _


	9. Schemes

**Chapter 9: Schemes**

Two days had passed since Loki had learned of the book and the terrible magic that had a hold on Ymir. These days had passed quietly around the palace, but not so in Loki's mind. He found himself thinking often on the pages of the book, his mind wandering to the power they would contain when there was little else to occupy it.

Loki had seen Eira only briefly when their paths crossed in the healing room. The prince had been curious, now that he knew what had caused Ymir's condition. He wondered if he could make out anything different in his old mentor now that he knew what he was looking for. Eira had already been at his bed side, but this time she was not alone. The woman, Mjoll, was sitting beside the girl, holding her hand in a gesture of comfort with the other rubbing gently at her shoulder with a thumb.

Loki affected a sad smile on approach and greeted them both politely. He then took up a space on the bench a little way away. A bystander would have thought all three silent and sombre, oblivious to the exchange happening within the minds of the two smaller vigilants.

_Eira. I hope you are alright. _Loki faltered a moment when he felt a mental shrug from the girl. In truth, she didn't have to say or do anything for him to register how she was feeling; her aura betrayed her.

He exuded what he hope was a calming influence, but wasn't sure how he had faired; seeing Ymir had once again inspired thoughts of the book and tempting sorcery contained within. Loki try to shake these from his mind, lest Eira see, but all at once he felt he had not been quick enough. The prince felt the girl's brow furrow.

_Are you excited for this? _came Eira's accusatory response. Her emotions heightened by the presence of her aunt and the prospect of the adult discovering their plan and putting a stop to it.

Loki shook his head slowly, _No, Eira, of course not...It's just that I want to help Ymir and I...I was just wondering how we could do that._

_Don't lie to me, Loki. I can see it._ Eira turned her head to face him, her expression once again dark and foreboding. Loki met her eyes and all at once felt guilty at the truth in her words. He was about to respond when he became aware of another pair of eyes on him. Shifting his gaze upwards, he found Mjoll regarding him with a tentative suspicion.

'Excuse me?' Loki asked, affecting a politely inquiring smile, somehow feeling as if he had just missed something.

'Forgive me...' Mjoll began, '...but I was just wondering how you knew Ymir.' The woman's voice seemed more curious than accusatory, but the thing that stung was that Mjoll had said 'knew' and not 'know'. Subconsiously certain that she did not believe the sorcerer would ever awaken.

Loki smiled kindly and with reminiscence. However, he chose his words carefully, hoping to convey his opinion that perhaps Mjoll would be better served by doing the same.

'Ymir is my teacher here at the palace.' The sentence was short and succinct, but had had the desired affect.

Mjoll had grown a little nervous, a minute spark that Loki had taken some small pride in; Mjoll had done just as most others did around the royal residence and had forgotten that Loki was indeed a prince. Young and unremarkable, but still with authority over most inhabitants of Asgard.

Mjoll gave a nod in response and involuntarily swallowed a lump in her throat, her gaze returning to the unconscious man, before falling downwards towards the girl at her side whilst she spoke, 'Yes. Of course...Well...I am grateful that yo- the royal family...are involved with...this...And that you are taking care of Eira for us.'

Loki gave a nod, but allowed his smile to fall a little. He had grown tired of talking to Mjoll and rose finally from the bench. He excused himself and began to walk slowly away from Ymir.

_I'm sorry, Eira. I hope I have not offended you. _Loki offered, sincerely. He felt his heart skip a beat when the reply tugged at his mind.

_It's alright, Loki...I understand...I think, if the situation were different; if father was not so hurt...I think I would be curious too..._

Loki felt a prick of sadness and inadequacy, understanding his mistake all-at-once. This meant so much more to Eira than him. He was losing a teacher. She, a father (and her only parent).

Eira had asked him for his help because she trusted him and thought him capable. And what had he done? He had lost focus, treating it like some sort of expedition, a means of gaining more knowledge and more power, losing sight of the magnitude of the situation.

Loki instinctively shifted the blame; inwardly avowing that if he was stronger, if he were able to wield more power, then people would notice him. He would be able to prove himself worthy of the throne and the kingdom and, finally Odin would look at him the way he looked at Thor. Because that was where the blame lay; at the feet of his father. The thought was not malicious, just desperate.

It was no secret that Odin thought more of Thor than Loki, though the Allfather claimed to have no favourite. It was apparent in all he did; the way he spoke, the way he acted, the way he took more interest in Thor's training than Loki's.

Loki had once rationalised that the latter was due to a lack of understanding; Odin knew how to wield a weapon and could see when Thor was doing this well. However, he knew little of magic and perhaps could not appreciate the skill with which Loki disappeared into the shadows or summoned denizens from pure energy to fight on his behalf. Loki could not help but to take notice of this, reading Odin's manner with ease at his last display; The Allfather sitting back in his throne and conversing with servants and guards when they approached, the exact opposite of his leaning forward and sending those who wished to speak to him away whilst watching Thor's.

Loki had realised then that he needed to change his tactics, that fighting with only magic was not going to win his father's approval. He had since been trying to learn to manifest weapons, absorbing anything and everything he could read on the matter. In fact, it was something that he had asked Ymir about in their last lesson. The sorcerer had asked him why and Loki had responded with only a shrug and an aver that perhaps he thought it would look impressive. After eyeing him astutely, Ymir had promptly sourced a book on the subject and the pair had spent the remainder of the lesson working through the charm. Loki had managed only a dagger, small and shortlived. He had felt the effort unimpressive, despite Ymir's excited avowals to the contrary.

Loki had left the lesson disheartened, unable to see how a dagger would help in battle; There was no way he would survive getting close enough to a frost giant in order to stab it in the heart with a puny dagger.

And so, Loki had been suitably intrigued when he had learned of Ymir's book. Thinking that perhaps this would be the key to getting his father to realise just how powerful he could be.

But, Loki now noted, this was not about him or his sibling rivalry with Thor or the winning of his father's praise...This was about Eira and Ymir and how the pair might soon loose each other if a cure to the sorcerer's condition could not be found.

_I am sorry, Eira. Please forgive me. _

_I forgive you, Loki...but I can stand this no longer...Father...I want father back..._

Loki took a breath, focusing his mind as he passed a healer, _So tonight, then?_

Eira steel her resolve with a breath of her own, _Tonight._

Loki gave an unseen nod as he stepped dutifully over the healing room threshold.

* * *

A sudden and forceful pain in his left arm, woke Loki from his thoughts. He turned his attention to his left, instinctively rubbing at his bicep with his hand in an attempt to lessen the bruise that would surely form there.

'What did you do that for?' He asked incredulously as he was greeted with Thor's furrowed brow and retracting fist.

'You weren't listening to me.' The golden prince explained as if the answer was obvious.

Loki rolled his eyes in a manner that he hoped Thor would find playful, but was truthfully anything but.

'What's got you so distracted brother?' Thor probed, stuffing a large piece of red meat into his mouth and chewing greedily, 'Tha's the thirsh time you've daydreemssh shince I shtarted talkinn.'

Loki grimaced as Thor spoke, a wave of eternal gratitude to the Norns washing over him when his brother finally swallowed before speaking again.

'Do you not want to hear of my besting Volstagg and Fandral in training today? Or how Hogun showed us this brilliant Vanaheimian battle move?'

Loki reached out for the cup by his plate and brought it to his lips, taking the opportunity to scan the room for any suspicious eyes. Gladly, the assembled guests seemed uncaring or ignorant of the conversation, or lack thereof, between the two princes. It was not a grand feast tonight, but still there were enough people around that anyone could listen without being noticed, at least for a while.

Loki placed the cup gently down on the table top.

'Or how Lady Sif's brother told us the story of his father's greatest battle?'

Loki shook his head, 'I'm sorry, brother. I guess I am just tired.' He gave a yawn that he hoped would appear more subtle than it felt and picked up a cube of cheese from his plate, chewing thoughtfully. When he had finished and Thor had yet to respond, Loki elaborated.

'I am having to study on my own whilst Ymir is unwell and Father has yet to source another Tutor. It's all rather exhausting.'

'Yeah,' Thor offered with an understanding nod, 'Reading all those books would bore me too!'

Loki was about to rebut this statement, but figured the point moot; he would not be able to convince Thor of the value of the written word, no matter how much he argued. He had tried (and failed) many times before. Tonight, Loki's heart was just not in the argument.

'I think I will to bed.' Loki stated, rising slowly and stretching in a pantomime of mock fatigue.

Thor gripped Loki's arm as he stood, eyes wide and imploring, 'No, stay. We've yet to have dessert; Mother says she has arranged a special treat with the servants. I bet it's one of those sweet berry pastries you love so much! I am going to have lots of cream with mine!'

Loki shrugged off Thor's grip and mustered an amicable smile.

'You can have mine...' he offered, distantly.

Loki took a few steps in the direction of the doorway, 'Goodnight, brother.'

Thor stared after him, a look of confusion on his countenance. Loki did not have the appetite Thor had, that was true, but Thor had never known his brother to refuse such a dessert; they were easily his favourite. Even when Loki had been unwell and Frigga had asked Thor to bring his dinner to his chamber, Loki had made sure to devour the sweet pastry, the rest of the meal relatively untouched.

No, something was wrong with his brother and Thor was determined to find out just what this was.


	10. Discovery

**Chapter ten: Discovery**

Thor shifted with a grimace as he looked down upon his brother's door. The hiding place, a well-shadowed egress atop one of the decorative struts that adorned the corridor, was perfect for sneaking around, but Norns was it uncomfortable!

The golden prince took a breath, held it and listened for any sound of footsteps. When he was certain that he was alone, at least for the moment, he straightened his arms, tucked his legs beneath him and maneuvered - as quietly as the awkward space would allow him - into a seating position. He felt a prick of shame at having had to move so soon into his watch, but there was only so long he could stand the bite of the cold stone on his stomach.

In truth, he did not know how long he had been hiding, waiting for Loki to emerge from his chamber, but it hadn't felt very long. With as loud a sigh as he dared to make, Thor blinked slowly and crossed his legs, settling in for what he figured would be a long wait.

With the prospect of boredom and wishing he had had the time to recruit a friend to keep him company, Thor slumped forward resignedly, head in his left hand and tracing patterns in the dust with the other. Thor soon found his mind wandering and it was with unease, that he found himself so easily believing his brother unwell, merely because he left the supper table early. Perhaps it _was_ merely that he felt tired, studying all by himself the past few days.

Thor's strength lay in...well, strength, and so he had no real idea as to what effort it took to conjure magic. But, Loki had always made it look easy and he had never been the epitome of youthful vigor, so how hard could it be? Could it really have tired him so? Possibly, but deep down, Thor supposed there was something more to Loki's distraction.

Unbidden, a face hovered in his mind's eye; the girl he had met a few days prior. What was her name? Eira? Thor remembered Loki refusing an adventure to Alftanenzel at her behest, taking a stance more dominant and certain than he usually exhibited. Could it have been love that made him follow her so? Perhaps it was merely that they were united in concern for Ymir?

Yes, that was it.

Nothing to do with love.

Love was impossible.

Loki couldn't possibly be in love! The idea seemed so wrong, so foreign; his brother...his little brother...in love? The mere idea of it seemed obscene to Thor. Not that he wouldn't want Loki to be happy, not at all, but in his experience, love seemed to take up an awful lot of time. Time that could better be spent on adventures with friends. Loki already seemed to have so little time for adventures as it was, to have someone else to occupy his focus would just be unfair!

This thought was bitter and heavy with self-pity and it plopped into the golden prince's stomach with a velocity that made him feel suddenly sick. It creased his brow involuntarily and he screwed up his eyes to rid his mind of such supposition. He realised that was what it was, of course; after all, he had no real evidence...Eira showed up and Loki seemed tired and didn't want to eat his dinner. That didn't mean anything...

Suddenly movement below, caught in his peripherals, chased these thoughts from Thor's mind and he focused subconsciously on the door to Loki's chamber.

It opened just a little, just enough to make the slightest sound of stone brushing stone. A small light emerged in the gap, tiny and orange, but lacking the familiar flicker of candlelight. The light illuminated first the edge of a glove hand and then an arm and, finally, the pale, almost ghostly facade of his little brother.

Thor listened for footsteps, but could hear none. However, a mere second or so later, the rasping hum of stone on stone followed by a definitive clunk, denoted the closing of the portal. The light moved a few inches forward, before stopping abruptly with a strange and short lived hissing noise.

Thor found himself holding a breath and squinted into the dimness below. The light had not moved and Thor wondered why. It was only when the light rose slightly, illuminating Loki's face, that Thor found his answer; There was a self-satisfied smile on the younger Prince's lips.

* * *

Loki was careful to keep his actions slow and calculated as he changed out of his nightclothes; there was no sense in rushing and making a noise.

It was not usual for there to be guards posted outside his door, but his ever prudent mind always imagined the possibility. Especially, if he was doing something he probably shouldn't (this was not the first time he had snuck out of the palace, after dark).

He had attempted to sleep, reasoning that he would need his mind sharp for the nocturnal adventure. However, slumber had not come, Loki's mind alert and full of wondering about Eira, Ymir and the book. Not to mention the delicious prospect of disobedience.

As he pulled on his boots and stepped across to the door, Loki planned how he would make his escape. He had considered the balcony first of all; it would get him the closest to an exit and allow him to bypass any potential denizens in the hallway. However, it would put him on the wrong side of the palace and, even though he had left plenty of time and was in no rush, it increased the odds of him being discovered; there may not be anyone looking directly at his balcony, but either going through the city or skirting the outer wall, increased the risk of him running into someone be this guard or citizen.

Other options included teleportation (something that he did not yet feel adept in for long distances) and creating a distraction to occupy the guards (the most interesting option, by far, but not the most practical).

In the end, Loki had gone for simplicity, reasoning that he could afford little room for error if he were ever to have a chance at even getting close to the hidden book.

Loki stole a breath and placed his left palm flat against the door. He pushed steadily and for a mere second until there was room enough for his nimble frame. before he ventured into the corridor, he took a moment to listen. When silence greeted him, he upturned the palm of his right hand and willed a small, ball of warm light into being. It hovered an inch or so from his gloved hand, unobtrusive, but enough for him to see by.

He pivoted and took a second or two to push the portal back into place, before beginning his nocturnal adventure. However, no sooner than he had taken two steps, did he realise he was being watched. Momentarily, his breath hitched in his throat and his heart skipped a beat. He reached out with his mind, probing the darkness for any clue as to who might be spying on him.

He found his answer in an instant, the culprit elevated his thoughts concerned.

A smile spread, unbidden to Loki's lips, somehow impressed.

He moved his lighted palm upwards a little, trying to make out exactly where his own personal spy was hiding. He half remembered a hiding place Thor had tried to coax him up to a few summers ago. The place had been uninteresting to Loki, partly due to the fact that he had no use for it (there were plenty of shadows at ground level to hide in should the occasion call for it), but mostly because it involved climbing. Loki had made a half-hearted attempt at following his brother and Fandral when they had first suggested it, but had soon excused himself from the situation, before attempting to scale it resulted in failure and embarrassment.

Loki allowed himself a short, smug scoff.

'Brother, whatever are you doing up there?'


	11. Smoke and Shadows

**Chapter 11: Smoke and Shadows.**

Loki waited with baited breath for Thor to dismount from his perch and join him at his side.

Thor, being athletic and sure footed, completed this in a mere few moments, but Loki could not help but to keep his eyes trained on the corridor's end in terrible anticipation. Loki treated his golden brother to a wry smile and a shake of his head as he watched him brush the dust off his tunic.

'Were you spying on me, brother?' the dark haired prince asked with a raising of his eyebrows.

'What do you expect?' Thor responded with a furrowed brow and a raised voice, before his brother's widened eyes caused him to employ a rather more hushed tone, 'You're acting strange.'

Thor gave something of a shrug, catching - even in the dim light - the slight questioning quirk of an eyebrow from Loki.

'Even more so than usual.' he added, not able to resist the comment. There was a moment's silence around them and Thor felt his gaze find the stone beneath his feet, 'I thought you might be sick...or...'

'Or what?' Loki pressed, suddenly intrigued as Thor's voice trailed off. He tilted his head to the side slightly, but it soon became clear that his brother was not going to elaborate. He shook his head and gave a sigh, 'I assure you I am not sick.'

'What then?'

Loki remained silent for a moment, inwardly debating his options. Eventually, he gave a directional nod and took a few steps away from Thor, listening for the footsteps he hoped would follow.

'Very well. I'll show you, but you'll have to be quiet.' Loki offered finally. He could hear the measured, yet still slightly-too-heavy footsteps behind him and he half-imagined Thor nodding emphatically at the instruction.

Before long the pair reached the end of the hallway. Loki met Thor's eyes in the pulsing amber light and gave a wave of his hand, indicating that they should take the right hand passage.

Thor followed his brother obediently throughout the decadent labyrinth that was the palace. His mind raced with the possibilities of what might explain Loki's recent behaviour, his intrigue such that he followed unquestioningly. That was, until he felt his brow furrowing in confusion as the warm smoky aroma from the kitchen fires caught in his nostrils for what seemed like the third time at least. His suspicions were further confirmed when they rounded a corner to find the great hall, a room they had already stolen across once that night. Thor remembered Loki insisting that they crawl beneath the tables lest their presence be discovered by the guards who oft patrolled the balcony beyond.

The Golden Prince narrowed his eyes at Loki's back, straightened and folded his arms across his chest.

'Loki!' he hissed, though he was not sure if there was any point to keeping his voice low anymore, 'Do you think me a fool?'

Thor's anger grew as he watched the darker prince stop and pivot with a smirk and a shrug of his shoulders, 'Well...'

Thor started forwards with fists clenched and steps heavy, but was halted by Loki's outstretched hand and suddenly serious expression, 'Please, brother...Forgive me, but I could not have taken you with me.'

An uneasiness threatened and caused the golden prince's stomach to bubble. Comprehension dawned, but he needed to be sure, needed to confirm his brother's betrayal.

'What do you mean, "could not have"?'

Loki's outstretched hand fell to his side then and he offered Thor a sad smile before phasing into nothingness amidst muted shards of green and yellow light.

Thor fought hard the urge to cry out, tears stinging at his eyes and heart hardening easily against his brother. His hands did not unclench and the golden prince set his sights - as best he could now that Loki's guiding light had vanished along with him - to a doorway in the wall furthest from him.

Thor did not now care what noise he made or who he awoke in the palace and stomped across the hall, gaze fixed determinedly at the doorway. The doorway which would lead to a long corridor, along which he would traverse about half way and then take the third turning to the left. This, in turn, would lead to a staircase, a hallway and then a strange yet beautiful antechamber. He would know it by the circular opening in the ceiling above a grand and forever blooming tree around which was arranged cushioned benches and a chaise or two. Almost directly opposite the tree and most certainly protected by guards, would be a grand pair of doors, etched with great battle scenes and images of courageous and daring feats, the most prominent and repeated feature of which was the depiction of the Allfather.

Thor's heart had not softened in the time it had taken him to reach the door and his voice cracked only a little as he addressed the guards and requested to see his mother and father.

They had admitted him hurriedly, but not expecting the matter to be anything other than a bad dream or perhaps an upset stomach.

Thor found himself relishing in their surprise as they were subsequently ordered by a dutiful Odin and a frantic Frigga to search the palace and the grounds at the behest of four small words from the golden princes' mouth:

'It's Loki...He's missing.'

* * *

Loki found himself inwardly chiding his brother as he finally reached a sheltered and mostly hidden spot by the wall surrounding the palace. He could see a gate to his left and noticed the forms of at least two guards standing watch there.

Originally, he had intended to sneak past them, cloaking himself in the shadows and resorting to decoys if that should fail in the first instance. However, it was difficult enough to maintain one or two at a short distance, and now that he had had to conjure one to entertain his nuisance of a brother in the palace itself, Loki doubted this approach would be very successful. He needed something that would maximise the possibility of escape. He could not risk being caught.

He steeled his resolve with a breath and closed his eyes, focusing on where in the palace he could sense his magic and his brother. Images of intricate tapestries and banners came to his mind and he all-at-once took note of the long upcoming corridor that passed by the throne room. Knowing that this would be his best opportunity; a long thin room where he could keep his decoy moving in the most basic manner.

Loki, certain in his supposition, turned his focus instead to what the environment was like beyond the great wall. He imagined there was a bush or shrub growing from the foot of the wall and a small cluster of market stalls opposite. He tried to listen, but could not glean much beyond the murmur of voices from the guards at the gate.

Loki's magic told him that Thor had reached the Throne room doors. He silently instructed his decoy to slow pace, giving himself an extra few seconds should he need it.

Realising he could delay no longer, Loki searched hard for the power and the knowledge he would need, focusing hard as he felt the familiar hum of the magic beneath his skin. He listened with every muscle, every sinew, making sure that he had summoned the correct spell. He felt his skin prickle and there was a sensation of him being suddenly lighter. In this split second, he felt almost invincible, as if nothing could hurt him, physically or otherwise; almost as if he did not exist at all and was merely a zephyr in the night. Intangible and free.

The sensation lasted only a breath before Loki became acutely aware of the dirt beneath his palms, the beading of sweat on his brow, the sudden dryness of his throat. He was dizzying as he stood and this alarmed him before remembering that he had magic employed elsewhere. He realised he was foolish to think that this would not take it's toll.

He took a moment to listen, taking satisfaction in the fact he had been correct about the hardy shrub that now concealed him. There were no footsteps rushing towards him, no alarmed voices, merely the usual night time insects calm conversations of the guards.

Loki stood finally, still employing some small measure of caution, before making his way from behind the bush towards the market stalls. He both used the stalls abundant barrels and crates as cover and weaved deftly around them so as to not alert anyone who might be around of his presence.

With each step he took further away from the palace, his confidence grew as did the images of Eira and the book in his mind.

Spurred on by these thoughts and the feelings of elation as Eira came into view, waiting for him as they had arranged by a well near the city's outskirts, he was smiling wide when the girl stood to greet him. They folded each other into a short, but mutual hug.

_We shouldn't stay too long here..._ Eira advised, somewhat surprised, when Loki did not respond in kind. He gave a nod showing that he understood, but felt the light-headedness return when he tried to reach her with his mind. Instinctively, he cursed Thor again, but he also suddenly felt foolish at not trying harder to sleep when he had had the chance.

'Let us not delay then.' He responded with a whisper, ignoring Eira's curious gaze as he passed her.

The girl tried to probe further, but was met only with silence. She came alongside the prince, knowing that she alone could provide the correct direction and the pair moved silently through the city outskirts, around the villas, houses and traders and towards their forbidden prize.


End file.
